


Who's birthday IS it?

by Superfanwoman



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cute, Dean's a good boyfriend, Domestic Bliss, Drabble, Established Dean Winchester/Reader, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Food Kink, One Shot, Sexy Dean Winchester, donuts and coffee and Dean, you're lucky AF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 22:31:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17733878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Superfanwoman/pseuds/Superfanwoman
Summary: You are lucky enough to be with the sexiest hunter in the universe. And on his birthday, you've got to spoil him. Unless he's the one who ends up spoiling you. That's okay, too.





	Who's birthday IS it?

You close the front door behind you, kick off your shoes, and creep back into the bedroom undetected. You'd been gone almost an hour, the lines at the coffee shop and your boyfriend's favorite donut house were out of control. But it was worth it. You place your mini-haul on the night stand on your side of the bed, and slip off your oversized PINK hoodie, keeping on your tight yoga pants and white tank that made it clear you're braless. You fluff your hair and crawl into bed, arranging the coffees and donuts on a little tray in-between you and the most amazing, gorgeous, perfectly flawed man you'd ever met. The one you'd had the pleasure of being with for over a year now. You know that is a long-ass time in Dean Winchester land, and you thank your lucky stars that you got to be the one to stitch this beautifully broken man back together. 

"Good morning," you whisper, ruffling his dusky sand colored hair. You scratch his scalp lightly with your nails, he moans, still 80% asleep, so you continue.

"Damn that feels good," he croaks, finally awake. "Something smells awesome... Is that you, Baby?"

"Probably," you laugh, "Could be what I got for you, too, though."

He cracks an eyelid and that lazy smile spreads across his pink lips. It feels like you've only known him a day when he smiles like that. Just like someone newly smitten, you are floored. Every time.

"You didn't have to do all this for me," he says, sitting up in bed enough to lean over and kiss you. 

"Of course I did." You pull an envelope from the night stand and hand it to him. "It IS your birthday."

That's the last thing he wants to think about, getting older, but you can tell he's grateful, taking a sip of coffee and clearly approving. "You had them put in the exactly right combo of sugar and cream, babe. You didn't need to get me a card too."

You're amused. And excited, "It's not a card." You grin, "Now open it. Or else."

You skipped the card, because you knew him well enough. He smiles and rips open the paper to find a pair of tickets. You wanted them old-school style, real tickets they mailed to you and all. 

"Oh shit. You did NOT get me tickets to Bob Seger?!"

You giggle, "No. I got US tickets to see Bob Seger. Front row."

"Unfrigginbelieveable! HA!" Dean is giddy like a little kid. It's so freakin' cute.

"You're amazing. You are amazing." 

"I know," you laugh.

"Thank you, thank you, how can I..." Dean grabs the tray and gets it out of the way as fast as he can. He grabs you by the hips and suddenly you're straddling his lap. Your favorite place to be.

"What? Make it up to me?" You smirk. He kisses your neck. "Hmmm, let me see..." You reach over, grabbing a donut from the tray on his nightstand. "Share your favorite with me."

He kneads your ass with his strong hands, "Oh, kinky, I like." 

You knew he would. He can't resist sweets, or you. You take a bite and powered sugar coats your lips. "Mmmm," you tease.

You can feel his delicious dick hardening beneath you. He takes the donut from you and licks your fingers clean, then your lips. You can feel your panties soaking through already, dampening your yoga pants as Dean slowly rolls his hips up into yours. 

He eats the rest of the pastry in one bite and teases you right back, "Mmm... yeah."

The powder falls across his smooth chest, white flakes of sugar falling like snow, speckling over the black ink of his tattoo. You lick the skin clean and Dean is back to squeezing your ass, moaning this time and thrusting up into you with more power now.

"I do not fucking deserve you," He whispers.

Your eyes roll back and you stiffle a whimper, "You do, yes you do. Dean...Please..."

You're suddenly mid air, then land on your back with a soft thud. Dean yanks off your bottoms in one quick motion and his tongue is slipping up through your folds and swirling around your clit three times fast before you can take a breath.

He lifts up his face and those peridot eyes of his, now hooded and dark emerald with lust, look up at you wickedly. "Now you're the one who's going to think it's your birthday."


End file.
